Two months had passed since their first carnal meeting. Sharon and Robert had spent the rest of their first week together naked. They usually had sex four or five times per day, even giving Edna some memorable performances. This all changed when, at the weekend, Sharon went to pick up her children from summer camp, and with them back home, they had to be far more discreet.
Sharon had been eager to say yes to Robert’s proposition, even if it wasn’t what she expected. He was planning his next exhibition and needed a new studio assistant. George, his long-standing previous assistant, had decided not to follow Robert to his new studio, wanting to focus on his projects. The last Robert had heard was he’d moved to the Isle of Man and set up a studio with a beautiful local woman, Caroline, as his assistant. So, in need of help, Robert thought of Sharon, who, as it turned out, had planned to go to art school, but when she met, and married, her husband Eric and quickly became pregnant, family life got in the way.
Eric, too, had thrown a small temporary spanner into the works when, mid-afternoon one Saturday, he’d returned. Fortunately, it was only a quick visit to pack a suitcase as he’d “got to go on a business trip to help oversee the company’s expansion into Singapore” for six months. But, considering that his new eighteen-year-old secretary Hollie was going with him, there was probably more to it than Eric claimed.
Robert had promised at least twenty new paintings for the exhibition, so they quickly got into a routine. Every day, after Sharon dropped the kids off at whatever summer activity they were doing, she would go to Robert’s studio unless she had some other engagement with her best friends (who knew everything about Robert and thoroughly approved of him). She would help him by moving and preparing canvases, putting out paint, and even doing initial marking based on a small sketch he’d done in advance. And when she wasn’t helping him, she could explore and experiment with her art.
She found his process fascinating. Every Monday would be spent finding landscape pictures from all over the world online and collaging them digitally to create landscapes that don’t exist in reality. It would then be printed the same size as the canvas, with the figure of a lone woman drawn on in thick sharpie who would usually be walking towards the viewer from some distant place - a village, a city, or even once a car crash. On Tuesdays, he would stare at the first picture for an hour before destroying it and painting it from memory over two days, followed by starting on the second one on Thursday. Working long hours, including many late nights, he would take about two days to paint each picture before hanging it on the wall to dry.
Despite seeing each other daily, Sharon and Robert had refrained from further sex. It wasn’t from lack of desire. Far from it - after every time they saw each other, they would each go home to masturbate furiously, longing for each other’s touch. Still, they’d mutually decided that since Robert’s exhibition was coming soon, he needed as much time as possible to paint.
So during the week, they worked hard to get the canvases ready. Then, at the weekends, Sharon would spend time with her kids. Robert often came around for Sunday lunch and did art activities with the children in the afternoon.
The summer holidays came and went, and it was nearly the October half-term when they reached twenty-three completed canvases. It had been an exhausting eleven weeks, but they were done. On the last day before half term, Robert had arranged for the paintings to be collected and taken to the gallery. Sharon agreed to take care of this because Robert knew that if he supervised the collection, he would want to keep some back to keep on working (an unfortunate trait common to all perfectionists), which wouldn’t leave enough for the exhibition. So instead, he took the day off, going down to Brighton to do some sketching and photography and to think through some ideas for his next project.
It was dark when he got back, so he noticed the studio light was still on. He’d assumed Sharon had gone home but found her gently sleeping on the chaise. The kids were at a friend’s for a sleepover, so she’d probably not been bothered to go home. He knelt beside her and watched her. To him, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, even if her husband didn’t think so. Sensing his presence, she opened her eyes and smiled. He kissed her and smiled back.
‘Hey,’ he said gently, ‘how did it go?’
‘Perfectly. How was your day?’
‘I think I’ve got a few ideas for my next project. Hungry?’
Sharon realised it had been at least twelve hours since lunch, and she’d only had a few biscuits and cups of tea with the transport crew throughout the afternoon.
‘Famished.’
‘What do you want? I can’t face cooking tonight, so I’ll order something.’
She thought a moment before declaring that pizza would be precisely what she wanted.
‘Perfect,’ said Robert, not caring that he’d had pizza for lunch in Brighton.
Sharon looked up at him. The sex that first few days had been explosive, but over the past two months, they’d become more than just lovers; they’d become close friends. And it was at this quiet, tender moment Sharon realised that she was no longer in love with her husband, not that she had really been in love with him for years, but was deeply in love with the man kneeling before him, ordering pizza for her at 11.24 pm.
Sharon sat on the three-seater sofa in the front room while Robert got a bottle of prosecco from the kitchen. He never typically bought prosecco or even champagne, for that matter, but he knew it was one of her favourite drinks. He also regretted not buying two champagne flutes, so he used two wine glasses instead. They sipped their fizz and chatted about their respective days until nearly midnight when the food arrived - a large deep-pan pepperoni pizza.
